


Yule

by onlyasmallfish



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Bag End, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Winter Solstice, Yule, bagginshield
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-23
Updated: 2015-12-23
Packaged: 2018-05-08 14:48:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,061
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5501672
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/onlyasmallfish/pseuds/onlyasmallfish
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A quiet Yule morning for Bilbo and Thorin</p>
            </blockquote>





	Yule

Although the sky was still dark with the taste of night in its mouth, the sound of winter birds had begun to fill the Shire. All about the little corner of Hobbiton, hobbits were stirring inside their holes, waking earlier on this one day than any other. There was a green door, round and large, tucked up under the overhang of the hill and blanketed at the base by freshly fallen snow. Outside was quiet and frigid with winter frost, but huddled away, deep inside Bag End a hobbit snuggled deeper into the chest of his dwarf, asleep and warm.

"My love, are you awake?" Thorin Oakenshield murmured, stroking the hobbit's downy curls with a gentle hand. Bilbo Baggins lifted his chin and wiggled into Thorin's embrace, his eyes remaining closed as he let out a sleepy sigh of contentment. Thorin smiled fondly at the sweetness of the sleeping hobbit, but he wasn't going to let it last.

"Bilbo, it's solstice," he said softly, tucking a few stray curls behind Bilbo's pointed ear. Bilbo scrunched up his nose, and petted Thorin's arm lazily. Thorin chuckled quietly and began to shake Bilbo ever-so-gently.

"Love, we need to be up before the sunrise," he said, his voice becoming slightly louder. Bilbo stirred for a moment, but then slipped again. Thorin sighed and picked Bilbo up, swiftly in one swoop, carrying him out of their bed and setting him on his feet.

"Th-Thorin..." Bilbo yawned, stumbling slightly and rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

"Good morning, my sweet burglar," Thorin said affectionately, pulling a pair of warm trousers, a shirt and a sweater from Bilbo's dresser. He stepped over to his tired hobbit, helping him to slip out of his night shirt and into the warm things he had chosen. Even though Bilbo was cooperating, he seemed confused as to what was happening and Thorin realized immediately.

"We're going out for Yule morning," he said, helping Bilbo put his arm through the sleeves of his green wool sweater. "Remember, love?" Bilbo contemplated this statement for a few moments.

"Oh!" he said suddenly, becoming alert. "Yule!"

Thorin laughed and handed Bilbo his trousers.

"Hurry, or we'll be late for sun-up!" he said, disappearing out into the hall. Bilbo jumbled his legs into his trousers quickly, snapping his suspenders over his shoulders and bounding after his husband.

Thorin was kneeling over by the front door, lacing up his heavy winter boots. As Bilbo came bouncing into the hall, he eyed the hobbit's big, curly-haired feet with concern.

"Are you sure you don't need something on your feet Bilbo?" he asked worriedly. Bilbo laughed and kissed his forehead, stuffing himself into his overcoat.

"Stop fretting. I'm a hobbit," he replied sweetly. The chill of the winter air hit them with a quick taste of what awaited beyond the cozy warmth of Bag End as Bilbo opened the door.

"Are you coming then?" he asked, turning back to Thorin.

"Yes, yes. Go along." Thorin said, waving his hand towards the door so that Bilbo would go ahead. He bent down to pick up the patchwork bag he had set out the night before, swinging the long red strap over his shoulder. He fumbled with the buckles on his coat, looking down as he stepped over the threshold, Bilbo closing the door behind him. He finished doing up the silver fastenings and looked up, throwing his long hair back and holding out an arm for Bilbo.

"Shall we?"

Bilbo beamed and hooked his arm through the crook of Thorin's elbow. They began their steady morning march up the hidden path to Bilbo's favorite place. Hidden behind a flush of trees, a small clearing surrounded by oak trees and bramble overlooked the east in the most beautiful way. They trudged through the freshly deposited blanket of snow, still crisp and powdery from the nighttime clouds. The dark ebony of the sky had begun to lighten to a soft navy, a few stars still dotting here and there.

By the time they reached the clearing, the sky had already become a pale periwinkle blue, steadily turning more blue along the horizon. Bilbo helped Thorin unpack the bag he had brought, setting a chalice, a lantern, some matches and a bottle of mead onto a snow-covered stump. He poured a generous amount of mead into the chalice as Thorin started to light the lantern.

The match flickered into being, splitting into two as it shared its warmth with the wick inside the glass lantern. Thorin closed the little metal door and placed the lantern on the snow in front of them and moved to stand next to Bilbo, who was clutching the chalice in two hands. He placed his arm around Bilbo, pulling the small hobbit closer into his embrace, watching the clouds grow lighter and lighter until they eventually disappeared into nothingness.

It hit the snow first, the sun, then it moved to the lantern and suddenly to everything else, all at once. Light erupted into the world, glowing a bright and brilliant combination of gold, orange, yellow and ruby red, dancing through the air like a billion birds. Bilbo gasped when it fell on his face, illuminating it like the sun itself. He turned his head to look at Thorin and held up the chalice.

"Valar, bless this into our bodies..." he began. Thorin smiled lovingly.

"Granting us health, wealth and peace," he continued.

"And in that perfection of love..."

"In it's eternal blessedness..."

"So mote it be," they finished together, their hands clasped around the chalice, intertwined. The sun shone with all its brilliance between their faces, but it was nothing compared to the pure, utter love that was exchanged through their eyes.

Bilbo slowly lifted the chalice to his lips and took a sip. "To the sun," he murmured as the vessel left his mouth. Thorin repeated the action, but instead said something different.

"To our love," he said softly, pouring the remains of the mead into the snow and dropping the chalice gently. He lifted his now vacant hands to clasp Bilbo's small face.

"To our love," Bilbo repeated with a smile. Thorin leant down and kissed him tenderly, sweetly, the hair of his beard whispering against Bilbo's bare, chilled skin. He pulled back and touched the end of his nose to Bilbo's.

"Happy Yule, my love."

**Author's Note:**

> **'so mote it be' is a well known pagan phrase meaning 'so must it be'


End file.
